


The Wonder of You

by prentissinred



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friendship/Love, Marriage Proposal, Minor Violence, Romance, Smut, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:28:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 20,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26022691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prentissinred/pseuds/prentissinred
Summary: Emily returns from Paris and find that her relationship with her boss, Aaron Hotchner, has forever changed.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Emily Prentiss
Comments: 46
Kudos: 132





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic, because I haven't been able to get Hotchniss out of my head the last few months. Lmk what you think!

Out of the corner of his eye, Hotch saw her walk down the long hallway towards the roundtable room. The team was still processing the news of Emily’s survival, and while Hotch knew he should be focused on their reactions, he only had eyes for the beautiful brunette now standing in the doorway.

Her hair effortlessly framed her face. The bangs she often sported were gone, highlighting her piercing brown eyes. Despite just arriving from a long-distance flight, she looked stunning - comfortable and healthy. The last time Hotch saw her, she was hooked up to tubes, sedated in a hospital bed. He remembered the pain and shame that had overwhelmed him then. And anger that he hadn’t arrived in time to stop Emily from getting hurt. Seeing her standing in front of him like this now, he felt relieved. Like he could finally breathe for the first time in months.

Emily embraced her team members, vehemently apologizing for her absence and the deception. She noticed Hotch watching her, and despite her anxiety about returning, she felt a sense of peace seeing him again. She had thought about this moment almost every day while she was in Paris. He had tanned from his overseas tour, and his rugged beard and civilian clothes were a far cry from his usual clean-cut style. As she hugged Penelope, Emily drank him in, moving her eyes up his body, lean and chiseled from duty. Their eyes finally met, and the faintest smile appeared in the corner of his lips. Her stomach fluttered at the sight.

“We need to get to work.”

* * *

“I’m glad to see your picture off the wall.” Hotch walked over to stand beside Emily, who was staring at the blank space on the memorial wall where her photo once hung. The team had just returned to Quantico after the fiasco at the airport.

“It’s strange. For the last 7 months, I’ve been mourning the loss of my family. Unsure whether I’d ever see any of you again. In a way, it feels like a former life, like a part of me actually died that night.”

Hotch felt the urge to comfort her, and he instinctively placed his hand in the small of her back, sending a shiver down her spine. But just as quickly, as he remembered where they were, he drew his hand away.

“The team certainly missed you,” he said gently.

“Just the team?” Emily joked with a smirk, turning around to see Hotch’s face, expecting that crooked smile of his. Instead she’s met with creased eyebrows and pressed lips.

“Emily…” he looked down at his feet at first, as though he was unsure about how to continue. Then, he met her eyes with determined focus. “This last year has been one of the hardest of my life. The team grieved your death, and I know it was extremely difficult for them. But it was just as difficult knowing you were alive out there, but not knowing how you were or if you were safe. Not being able to see you every day. It was…” he trailed off and cleared his throat sharply. “What I’m trying to say is…I could not be more relieved to have you home.”

Emily was taken aback by the unusual display of honesty from Hotch. She looked into his eyes - glistening, betraying his emotion and sincerity. All she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and take comfort in each other’s presence. She wanted to tell him how much she missed him too — how she wanted to get on a plane back home every day that she was away. But she couldn’t move, couldn’t say anything. Hotch’s confession hung between them, thickening the air as they looked into each other’s eyes.

“Dinner, anyone?” The two jumped apart as Rossi’s question broke the silence. Emily, feeling flushed, responded “Thanks again for the invitation, but I think I’ll head home. Rest up and say hi to Sergio.” She walked away, leaving the two men to watch her departing figure.

“The team feels complete again, doesn’t it?” Rossi mused.

“Mmm..indeed.”


	2. Chapter 2

Emily couldn’t sleep. She was pacing in her hotel room, enveloped by the sticky Savannah air. A bead of sweat rolled down her back as she cursed the ineffectual air conditioning. Her list of things to do had run out — bags packed for their flight back to Quantico tomorrow, case notes filled out. She had just resigned herself to an evening of bad late-night television when she heard a light knock at the door.

“Hotch,” she says, surprised to see him. He was still in his formals from earlier in the day, but he had shed his blazer, and the top buttons on his shirt were undone, revealing a small patch of dark chest hair. _Wow…he looks…_ The thought flitted unwelcome in her mind, and she tried to dispel it just as quickly.

It was also in this moment that she became acutely aware of her own clothing - a black camisole and shorts - making her feel vulnerable and exposed.

“Prentiss, I’m sorry to bother you at this hour. Were you resting?” Hotch inquired, as he tried his damndest to focus just on Emily’s face.

“No, it’s fine, I couldn’t sleep with this heat anyway. Do you want to come in? What’s going on?” She stepped to the side, and let Hotch enter.

“I was wondering if you had your case notes written up yet. I was hoping to get my report done before we land in Quantico, so I can go straight home to Jack.”

“Yes, of course, I have them right here.” Emily walked over to the desk and began to sort through the files.

Hotch caught the sight of her bottom peeking through her shorts as she leaned over the desk, and immediately turned his head, internally chastising himself. _Jesus, control yourself. You know she’s off limits._

She walked over and handed him the file. “How are you doing by the way?” she asked gently. Cases involving children are always the hardest for Hotch and JJ. Emily could see the toll that it took on him each time.

“I’m fine,” Hotch responded curtly, “it’s all part of the job.”

Emily stepped forward, forcing Hotch to make eye contact, knowing that he was holding back. Hotch looked at her reluctantly, and he felt like she could see straight through him. _No point in hiding._

He sighed, sitting down on the edge of her bed, “I know the importance of what we do here, and Jack, as young as he is, understands why I need to be away. But how do I protect him from the evils of the world when I’m 500 miles away from him?”

“God, Hotch, I can’t imagine how that must feel,” Emily sat beside him and placed a comforting hand on Hotch’s arm. “But you must know that there’s no way you could protect him from everything. And you are an incredible father to Jack.”

“Thank you,” Hotch gave Emily a small smile and placed his hand over hers. They shared in that quiet moment of comfort, relishing the small contact between them.

After a beat, Hotch unwillingly stood up and said, “I should let you get some rest.”

“Oh…okay, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Emily felt unexpectedly disappointed but walked Hotch to the door. They faced each other for a brief second, and then, in a surprise even to herself, Emily reached up and embraced him. “Night, Hotch.”

Her touch was like a jolt of electricity, sending sparks traveling all over his body, as he wrapped his arm around her waist. “Good night, Emily.” She felt a warmth in her chest hearing her name come out of his lips.

He broke away and turned to exit. Emily closed the door behind him and then slumped forward, resting her head on the cool surface, her hand still on the door knob.

 _What were you thinking?_ She couldn’t believe she had just done that. And now her skin felt like it was on fire, missing the touch of Hotch’s body. _You idiot._ Emily had never felt this way about anyone — never felt this urgency, this craving. But Hotch was…Hotch. Her boss. _Your boss. Who is probably thinking that you’re completely inappropriate. Embarrassing. Stupid._

Hotch was, in fact, thinking about her. He couldn’t bring himself to leave Emily’s door, and was instead pacing in the hallway. He was frustrated with himself, fighting an internal battle that had long felt dormant but had now bubbled up to the surface. Despite how he felt about her, how he wanted to break down that door and sweep Emily up into his arms, he knew the right thing to do was to stay away.

As she stepped away from the door, Emily saw the shadow of footsteps walking back and forth on the other side. She swung the door open and encountered a startled Hotch.

Neither one of them said a word. This time, Hotch couldn’t stop himself from moving his eyes down, taking in her silhouette - the faint outline of her nipples, the small strip of skin peeking out between her camisole and shorts, her unbelievably long legs. He met her eyes again, and in that instant, he didn’t care what was right anymore.

Emily watched as Hotch, usually the consummate professional, took his time unabashedly gazing at her. Where earlier she had felt exposed, she now felt unfettered. Emboldened. When his eyes met hers, her breath hitched in her throat. Hotch walked towards her in one swift stride, taking her face between his hands, and bringing his lips to hers as the door closed behind them.


	3. Chapter 3

Hotch’s hands moved further into Emily’s hair, tightening his grip as his kiss became more insistent. Emily, recovering from her initial shock, gripped Hotch’s arms, feeling the muscles flex as he held her, then moving her own to his broad shoulders. She melted into him, parting his lips with her own and exploring with her tongue.

Hotch moved his hands down Emily’s body in earnest, wanting to take in as much of her as he could. As Emily wrapped her arms around his neck, he slipped his hands underneath her camisole and up her back, pulling her even closer to him. He kissed her as if he wanted nothing else in the world, as if nothing else mattered.

Emily was the first to pull away, gasping for a breath. As they both steadied themselves, she let out a soft chuckle, unbelieving of what had just transpired. She looked up at Hotch, who was trying to catch his breath, and every part of her body ached to be even closer to him.

She reached up to his neck and pulled his face down towards her again. He let out a low moan at the back of his throat and gripped her so tightly, she was sure she would have bruises in the morning. She brought her hands down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt deftly with her fingers. Hotch whispered against her lips, “are you sure?” She didn’t say anything, instead pushing his shirt off his body in response.

They walked back a few steps together, neither one of them willing to separate. Until Hotch grabbed her thighs, lifting her up as she wrapped her legs around him, as he carried her to the bed. He laid her down, soaking in the sight of the beautiful woman underneath him. He leaned down to kiss her face, moving his lips down to her chin, running up her jawline to scrape her earlobe with his teeth. His hands made their way down to her breasts, teasing them over her camisole until her nipples hardened. He pulled the blouse down, exposing her breasts, circling his tongue around and around.

“Aaron,” Emily moaned, twisting away from him slightly. Hotch stifled a groan, relishing the way his name escaped her lips. He moved down further, tearing off her shorts, and burying his head between her legs. His stubble felt rough against her thighs, which tightened around his head as he expertly used his tongue to elicit moan after moan.

Not wanting her to finish just yet, Hotch stood, pulling Emily up with him until she was sitting up. She looked up at him, her eyes peeking through those long, dark lashes. Her hands traced Hotch’s abs, slowly making her way to his belt buckle. Teasing him, she lightly brushed her fingers over his slacks, feeling him harden with her touch. He let out a moan, instinctively pushing his hips into her hands. She bit her lip with a smirk, unzipping his pants, and finally releasing his erection. She admired it for a second, admiring the effect she had on him. Hotch pulled her hair back, as Emily peeked up at him again as her lips wrapped around him. She savored each sound she brought out of him, moving back and forth, with her tongue tracing his underside. Seeing the controlled, reserved man she knew come apart under her touch was nothing short of intoxicating.

When he could no longer stand it, Hotch grabbed Emily’s hands, pinning them above her head as he lay on her, every ounce of his weight pressed against her. Emily wrapped her legs around him. He entered her slowly, achingly, his other hand holding down her hips so she couldn’t reach up to meet him. She lifted her face up to kiss him, craving every possible contact between their two bodies — and somehow, it still wasn’t enough. Hotch was in control, moving in deep, steady strokes, holding her so she could only move in his rhythm. She couldn’t help her moans, “Faster…Aaron, please.” He increased his speed infinitesimally, savoring the way her back arched towards him in response. Moving faster and faster, Hotch brought his lips to Emily’s ears, whispering her name, his voice raspy with passion.

They came quickly, her first with a soft moan, and him following soon after. They laid there for many minutes as they regained their breath. Finally, he lifted his head, held her chin in his hand, and kissed her - one tender, sweet kiss.

* * *

Hotch and Emily laid on the bed in comfortable silence. Her head on his chest, legs intertwined, her hair tousled across the sheets. Hotch was lightly stroking her back, drawing circles with his fingers on her alabaster skin.

After a minute, he bent his head and gave Emily a soft kiss on her head. She looked up, her brown eyes meeting his.

“What?” she said jokingly.

“Nothing,” he flashed a smile. “I’m just…very happy right now.”

Emily grinned, making Hotch’s heart stop at the sight. “I think that’s the most I’ve ever seen you smile,” she laughed. She loved to see him like this, the way the skin around his eyes crinkled, his usually-stern jaw relaxed, hair in disarray.

She sat up a bit, resting her head on his shoulder, his arm draped around her as she leaned into him. Her leg was still wrapped around him, and she aimlessly danced her fingers across his chest.

“Hotch-“

“Aaron,” he cut her off.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, “Aaron. What you said to me the other day. About this year being one of the hardest of your life. Did you really mean that?”

He turned his head, confused by the question, “Of course I meant it, Emily. Why would you question that?”

She averted his gaze, looking down as her voice got soft. “Sometimes I think about all the pain I caused. Hurting you, the team. And I wonder if I should have ever come back. Wouldn’t it have been easier on everyone…”

Hotch furrowed his eyebrows and cupped her face. Instinctively, she leaned into his palm. “Emily. Never think that. Ever. Yes, it was painful and difficult. But the only thing we all wished for every day was for you to be alive and back home. Knowing that you were out there and I would never see you again. Or worse, knowing that you had actually died…I…I don’t think I could have survived that.”

They were quiet for some time. Hotch looked down at Emily again, noticing the faint scar above her breast, a remnant of a four-leaf clover. His fingers traced over the scar lightly, then traveled down to her stomach, where there was another healed gash along her midriff. He felt a deep pang, as though he was the one who had been stabbed in the gut.

“It doesn’t bother me anymore you know,” she said quietly, snapping Hotch out of his trance. His face was stiff, eyebrows furrowed, betraying the anger he felt at this reminder of Emily’s pain.

He pulled Emily in closer, and she nestled her head under his chin. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He paused. “Just promise me something…next time you’re in trouble, you will tell me. No more running away.”

She was touched once again by sincerity in his voice. “I promise.”

Emily wanted to break the serious tone of their conversation, wanted to see Hotch smiling again. She turned over, straddling him, resting her elbows on his shoulders, fingers in his hair. She bent down to playfully kiss the corner of his lips. _Ah, there’s that smile._

“So, Agent Hotchner, how long have you known?”

“Known what?”

“That you wanted to whisk me into bed,” she teased, flashing her wide smile.

He chuckled, and she was glad to have distracted him. “You, Agent Prentiss, have driven me crazy since the day you stepped foot in the BAU.”

She leaned down, but stopped herself just shy of his lips. “Liar,” she whispered, then planted a kiss. “You couldn’t stand me when I first joined the team.”

“I’m fairly certain the feeling was mutual,” he replied with a smirk. “But we’ve come a long way since then…” He kissed the base of her neck, moving up to her chin with a trail of featherlight kisses.

She tried to come up with a quippy reply, but came up empty. Instead she closed her eyes with a sigh, feeling herself quicken at his touch. Before long, they were lost in each other again.


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing Emily felt when she woke in the morning was immense heat. The already humid air was now practically unbearable. Hotch had wrapped himself entirely around Emily, breathing softly against her forehead, his body radiating a heat that enveloped her.

She turned in his arms to face him, admiring his peaceful features. She lightly traced his nose, then his chiseled jawline and chin. A stray strand of hair fell over his forehead - she reached up to push it back, running her fingers through his hair. She smiled as he let out a sigh in his sleep.

A minute later, the phone rang. “Hello?” Emily answered, waking up Hotch in the process.

“Hey Em, is everything ok? We missed you at breakfast,” JJ inquired.

“Oh yeah, sorry, I seem to have overslept.”

“Okay well we’re headed to the airport in 15, can you be down by then?”

“Sure no problem, I’ll see you there…” she was now distracted by Hotch kissing her shoulder.

“Great. Oh, by the way, have you heard from Hotch? He never made it down here either.”

“Hotch?” Emily answered, eyes widening as she looked at him. Hotch was leaning on his side and looking down at her, amused. “No…no idea where he is. Sorry.”

“No worries, I’ll call him after this. Thanks.”

Emily playfully swatted at Hotch. “We’re going to get in trouble.”

He laughed, interrupted by his ringtone, the phone lost in the clothes on the floor. Emily began looking around frantically, finally tossing it into Hotch’s hands.

He answered, “Hotchner…Yeah, JJ, I’ll be down in 10.”

Closing his phone, he looked over at Emily, who was now standing next to the bed, wrapped in a white sheet. “Good morning,” he smiled.

“Morning,” she leaned down to give him a kiss, and he took the opportunity to wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her back into bed.

“Aaron!” Emily squealed as she fell into his lap. He just grinned and kissed her. “We should get going, the team—“ She’s cut off by another kiss.

“Yes, ma’am, whatever you say,” Hotch found his way off the bed, a devilish twinkle in his eye as he walked into the bathroom. Emily watched him leave, biting her lip as she thought about locking the two of them in this room for the rest of the day. _Alas…_

* * *

The team arrived at the jet, getting settled for the flight back to Quantico. Earlier, Emily and Hotch had arrived in the lobby of the hotel, where the rest of the team was waiting for them. Immediately, Emily spotted the inquisitive looks from JJ and Reid, quickly deflecting with a “look who I found in the hallway.”

Emily tucked herself into the window seat, and Morgan climbed into the seat next to her. She was relieved for a brief moment until she saw Hotch move into the seat across from her. _Shit._ It was all she could do to stop herself from smiling at him like an idiot, recalling everything that had transpired between them last night. She decided the safest thing to do was to avoid contact entirely, closing her eyes and leaning against the window. That didn’t prevent her from feeling his leg brush against hers as the plane took off.

The team was engrossed in their usual travel habits. Reid and Rossi stared each other down over a game of poker. Morgan was focused on his music. JJ had buried her head in a novel. Hotch was trying to complete his case report, given that he hadn’t had a chance to do much work last night. It didn’t help that he was constantly distracted by Emily’s every movement. She had fallen asleep as soon the plane took off, leaning her head by the window.

 _God, she’s beautiful._ He couldn’t help but admire her, forgetting where they were for just a moment. The way her dark hair contrasted her pale skin, her lips parted slightly as she slept peacefully. Her arm was draped across her body and, every so often, her thumb would unconsciously brush against her hip or thigh. When she shifted her position slightly, crossing her legs, Hotch vividly remembered those same legs wrapped around him just a few hours ago. It had been a long time since Aaron Hotchner had felt this way about anyone. And as he looked at Emily, he couldn’t believe his good fortune.

As they neared Virginia, the plane shook in a patch of turbulence, startling Emily awake. She groaned at the sudden disturbance, running her hand down her face.

Morgan nudged her with his elbow, joking, “What’s the matter, sleepyhead? Didn’t you get any sleep last night?”

“No not really…” she flashed a glance at Hotch, who was busy looking at his case file. But she noticed, as he hid behind paperwork, the corner of his lips turned up in a cheeky smile.

* * *

“Morning, Prentiss,” Hotch walked up to Emily the next morning as she poured herself a cup of coffee in the bullpen.

“Good morning,” she couldn’t help but blush as he walked up to her. He reached over to take the pot from her and his thumb stroked the back of her hand, causing her to jump.

Hotch glanced around them quickly, ensuring no one was within earshot. As he poured his own coffee, he said in a low voice, “Dinner tonight? My place?”

Emily smiled and turned around to face the bullpen. Resting her back against the kitchen counter for a second, she said “I’ll be there at 8,” and then walked to her desk.

The day seemed to drag on, as Emily kept glancing at the clock on the wall. It was rare for the team to have a day in the office, and without a case to keep her distracted, Hotch was the only thing on her mind.

“Earth to Emily,” JJ trilled as she walked up to Emily’s desk, resting herself on the edge. “What’s going on? You’ve been awfully quiet today.”

“Oh, it’s nothing…Fridays, you know,” she said nonchalantly.

“Ooh, any weekend plans?”

Emily unwittingly paused for a second, “N—“

“Oh you so do! Who’s the guy?”

“What guy? No guy!” Emily exclaimed, but her blush betrayed her.

“If you say so,” JJ teased, practically skipping away from Emily’s desk.

Emily felt stupid for letting herself get flustered like that. JJ always had the uncanny ability to know when she was hiding something.

A few hours later, the team started packing up their belongings. “Hey, you guys up for a drink?” Morgan surveyed the room.

There was a wave of yeses, with two notable exceptions. “Em?”

“Um, I can’t tonight, guys. I have a date with a hunk named Sergio.” She was met with a few protests, which died down as Hotch walked up to the group.

“What about you, Hotch?”

“You guys go ahead. I’ll take a raincheck.”

Morgan shrugged and the group made their way to the elevator. Emily and Hotch separated from the team, walking to their separate cars.

Once the group was far enough away, Garcia said, “You don’t think…?”

“She was acting pretty suspicious all day today,” JJ chimed in.

Morgan laughed, “Maybe. I didn’t think either of them actually had it in them to admit how they feel.”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Reid said, feeling a bit oblivious.


	5. Chapter 5

Emily Prentiss didn’t get nervous. Put her face-to-face with a psychopathic sadist, and she probably wouldn’t bat an eyelash. But now, standing in front of Hotch’s apartment, her hands turned clammy and her heart started racing. She had changed into an off-the-shoulder red dress and heels, but as she stood there, she immediately regretted her choice. _You look ridiculous, all dressed up like this._ But it was now 8:02pm, and there wasn’t much she could do now.

Hotch heard a light knock at the door. When he opened it, he froze in his tracks. Emily looked stunning. Her dress hugged every curve. Her hair was elegantly pulled back in a low ponytail. Hotch didn’t realize how much he appreciated the color red until this moment.

“Hi,” she said, with a tentative smile. Hotch recovered himself and replied, “Hi. Come in, please.”

She had been in his apartment before, during the horrors of George Foyet. In the days after Hotch was shot, Emily would accompany him back to his apartment. Sometimes, she’d stay for a drink or two. When Haley died, she would stop by on occasion with dinner or to spend some time with Jack.

But tonight felt different. His dining table was set for two, with a candle burning in the center. Music played softly in the background. She stood in the living room, rubbing her arms as her nerves were still coursing through her.

Hotch came up behind her and put his hands on her hips, bending down to give her a light kiss on her neck, “You look beautiful.” Already, she started to feel her nerves slip away with his touch.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she replied as turned to face him. He was in a black collared shirt - just tight enough for her to appreciate the muscles in his arms and chest. She ran her hands up his chest, then slipped them around his neck as she tiptoed up to kiss him. He pulled her in closer, deepening the kiss, exploring her mouth with his tongue, until they were both breathless.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” Hotch said as he kissed her once more. “Can I get you something to drink?”

They settled on the couch, wine glasses in hand. “So, how are you?” Hotch rested a hand on Emily’s thigh.

“I’m…great. A little nervous, to be honest,” she chuckled.

“Nervous? About what?”

“Being here…with you…like this. Don’t get me wrong, Savannah was…incredible,” she blushed. “But we never really talked about what comes next. Are we dating? Can we date? Do we tell the team? What about Strauss—" she shut herself up as she felt herself starting to rant.

Hotch contemplated in silence for a moment. “Emily, truth be told, I’m not sure what comes next. But here’s what I do know. I care about you deeply. I’ve hesitated in expressing my feelings in the past because I was unsure if you felt the same way — and the bureau makes it extremely difficult for colleagues to engage in romantic relationships. That being said, I have no regrets about the last few days. And if you agree,” he paused as he took Emily’s hand in his and lifted it gently up to his lips, “I’d like the chance to explore…whatever this is.”

Emily felt equal parts touched and terrified at Hotch’s answer. She had never been gold medalist when it came to relationships — usually, she would bail before anything got too serious. She had never cared about anyone enough to put down roots. If she was being honest with herself, more than anything, she was afraid of the hurt that inevitably accompanies attachments.

As she looked into Hotch’s eyes, she could feel herself getting pulled in deeper than she had ever dared to go before. He was the person she trusted the most, the one who knew her better than anyone else she had let into her life. This relationship could break her, if she let it. But in this moment, the worse pain - the unbearable pain - would be to let him go.

“I’d like that too,” she said simply, not betraying the rest of her inner conundrum. “So it’s our little secret for a while?”

“Our little secret.” Hotch raised his hand to cup Emily’s cheek. “Should we get some dinner?”

“Oh my, Aaron Hotchner, who knew you were such a romantic?” Emily teased as Hotch held the chair at the dinner table.

“There are many things you’ve yet to figure out about me,” Hotch winked as he walked over to the kitchen to serve their dinners.

“And since when do you know how to cook?” Emily exclaimed as he brought over plates of pasta to the table.

“Courtesy of Rossi — he had me on the phone for the last two hours making sure I did it correctly.”

“Of course he did,” Emily rolled her eyes with a laugh. “Wait — who did you say you were making it for?”

“A thank you dinner for Jessica,” he chuckled. “Let’s see how my efforts paid off.”

* * *

“Remind me to thank Rossi for the dinner,” Emily joked. They had made it back to the couch, feeling much more comfortable after a meal and a few glasses of wine. Emily had kicked off her heels and her legs were draped over Hotch’s lap. She was surprised at how easily their conversation flowed when they weren’t talking about work. She loved the excitement and protectiveness that entered his voice when he spoke about Jack. She shared her adventures in Paris, few though they were, and he soaked in every word.

“Hey, I think I deserve a little credit there too,” Hotch feigned annoyance. She held up her fingers like pincers - _just a little bit_ \- and Hotch poked at her side. Emily’s laugh made Hotch’s heart stop. He realized how little he got to see her smile, surrounded by darkness every day at work. He knew then that he wanted to do whatever he could to see that smile all the time. He put his glass down on the coffee table and leaned in to give her a kiss.

The butterflies began in Emily's stomach as Hotch’s lips met hers. He parted her lips, then took her wine glass from her hands and placed it next to his, never breaking contact. Moving together, Emily shifted so she was lying underneath him as he leaned over her. He used his knee to spread her legs, settling himself between her as he deepened the kiss. He broke away for a moment, looking down at her with a tender smile. Emily saw the longing in his eyes, saw how it matched hers. She reached up to run her fingers through his hair, then moved her fingers down his face, along his dimple that made its appearance so infrequently. He stopped her fingers with his lips, gently kissing them.

He leaned down again, imprinting soft, languid kisses down her neck to her open shoulder. Tonight felt different than their time in Savannah. That night was intense, desperate, as years of stolen glances and forbidden thoughts culminated when they came together for the first time. Tonight, their touches felt almost reverent, as they confronted the depths of their feelings towards each other.

A soft moan escaped his lips and she begged Hotch, “Take me to bed.”

He obliged, taking her hand and leading her to the bedroom. He spun her around so she was facing away from him. His lips met the back of her neck, teeth lashing at her skin, as he pulled out her ponytail. She felt herself coming apart at his touch and shivered as her hair grazed her shoulder. He stepped back to slowly pull down the zipper on her dress, punctuating the journey with kisses on her exposed skin. The dress fell to the ground and Hotch was kneeling on the floor.

“Turn around,” he said in his low, deep voice. Emily’s stomach flipped at the sound as she turned to face him. His lips met her stomach, kissing just below her belly button, as his hands pulled down her lacy underwear. Her legs began to quiver as his lips moved from inside her thigh up to her center. She groaned, “Fuck…” as he unleashed his tongue. Her fingers intertwined in his hair, gripping tightly, as his tongue grew more and more insistent. She felt herself coiling at the base of her spine, tighter and tighter, until she came apart completely. Her legs buckled, and Hotch caught her in time, holding her up as he walked her to the bed.

Her eyes stayed closed as she came down. Finally, she cracked her eyes open to see Hotch looking down at her. Behind the tenderness in his eyes, she saw a darkness, betraying his intense desire. It made her breath catch in her throat.

“There you are,” he said with a smile, leaning down to kiss her lips. She could only muster a “Mmm” in reply. He chucked and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

After a beat, Emily felt herself recover. She swiftly turned over and straddled Hotch. Somewhere in the process, he had shed his own clothing. His hands gripped her hips and she could feel his heat under her. She bent down to kiss him, taking his face in her hands, pushing her tongue into his mouth. He moaned her name as she rocked her hips, teasing him. She lifted herself up and guided him inside her, savoring the feeling of him inside her. She began rocking slowly, and Hotch dug his fingers into her harder. While she loved the feeling of Hotch on top of her, she couldn’t help but relish the sight of him underneath her in this moment, writhing as she took control.

‘Faster,” he said in a low growl. She ignored him, instead bending down, tugging his earlobe with her teeth then nipping along his jawline. Hotch’s hands ran up her back into her hair, tightening his grip with a light tug. He bucked into her, but she wouldn’t relent. She straightened her back and laced her fingers with his, using him as leverage to move herself up and down. She began increasing her speed with each stroke, and he moved his hands up her stomach to her breasts. He slipped her black lace bra down and used his thumb to circle her nipples. He wanted to etch the memory of her throwing her head back in a moan into his mind forever.

Their moans built together, the sound swirling in the air between them. As he grew closer to his end, Hotch sat up without warning and Emily gasped as the new position pushed him in deeper. He gripped her ass as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. They began to move, relentlessly and in unison. Her nails dug into the skin on his back and her teeth bit into his shoulder as she muffled the sounds of her release. One, two thrusts later, and he was undone, burying his head into her chest.

They stayed like that for many minutes, holding each other, as their ragged breaths settled. Emily was the first to move, settling her forehead against his and nuzzling his nose with hers. Hotch knew in that moment that he had fallen deeper than he ever had before.

* * *

The sun crept through the bedroom window the next morning, waking Hotch. He started to stir, then stopped himself to avoid waking the beautiful woman sleeping next to him. Her dark hair was strewn across his white pillow, and she was sleeping peacefully in his arms. He smiled to himself as he saw an errant mark on her neck, chest — evidence of where he had been last night. He kissed her hair lightly, and she smiled in her sleep. Extracting himself slowly, Hotch got out of bed, moved into the kitchen and turned on the coffee.

Emily woke up with the emptiness of the bed and turned her head, feeling a bit disoriented. _I’m in Hotch’s bed._ She peeked out the bedroom door and saw Hotch keeping himself busy in the kitchen, wearing just a pair of grey sweatpants. She swung her legs off the bed and spotted his shirt from the previous night on the floor. Putting it on, she walked to the kitchen with soft steps, until she could stand behind him and wrap her arms around.

She planted a kiss on his back, “Good morning.” She could hear the smile in this voice as he replied, “Good morning to you.”

Hotch was frying some bacon in a pan. “Some coffee?” Emily poured herself a cup and found some Splenda in a cupboard. They moved around each other with silent familiarity, the odd touch here and there as they brushed past each other in the kitchen. Hotch brought their plates to the coffee table, toast with eggs and bacon. Emily settled next to him with their coffee, her legs folded up. She tousled her fingers through his hair, still messy from sleep, and he wrapped his arm around her waist.

“Is Jack coming back today?” Emily asked.

“No, he’s away at camp for the weekend.”

“Ah.” There was a pregnant pause in the air as the implications of a kid-free weekend settled between them.

Hotch turned to kiss her head and whispered, “Eat your breakfast, Emily.” Her stomach clenched deliciously at the slight command. She picked up a slice of toast and bit off the edge. Hotch’s thumb skirted her lips, picking up an errant crumb, then placed the thumb in his mouth to clean it off.

 _Holy shit._ Emily couldn’t take her eyes off his fingers, couldn’t understand why this simple gesture aroused her so. Hotch saw the shift in her, the darkening of her eyes, her breathing becoming more rapid. He delighted in the tease, in the effect he had on her.

Pretending to ignore her, Hotch continued with his meal, slowly making his way through the eggs and bacon. She followed suit. As they ate, making idle small talk, Hotch brushed his leg against hers. When he stopped to sip his coffee, his other hand made its way to her exposed thigh, drawing small circles in her skin. He was driving her crazy, and he knew it.

Emily, of course, had her own tricks up her sleeve. Every sip of her coffee, every bite of food was accompanied by a gentle touch of his thigh, inching higher every time, until she could feel him hard under fingers.

When their plates were clear, Hotch looked at Emily with a devilish look in his eye. “Sated?” She simply shook her head, knowing the double meaning of his question.

That was all the answer he needed. He moved in one swift motion, pulling her down on the couch, spreading her legs, and positioning himself between her. He made quick work of the few buttons on her (his) shirt, while she pulled down his sweatpants. She wrapped herself around him, arms around his neck, legs around his hips. “What you do want, Emily?” he growled into her ear.

His voice sent shivers down her body. “You, now, please,” she moaned, her body aching for his.

He drove into her, groaning as she clenched around him. All the teasing had left them both close to the edge already. He set a punishing rhythm, moving without reprieve. Emily felt herself climb quickly, and with a few hard thrusts, she fell off the precipice, screaming Aaron's name on her way down. He wasn’t far behind, a low groan in her ears.

After a second, Hotch lifted off and turned to the side, taking Emily with him, so that she was now resting on his chest. He kissed her head again and is surprised when he hears a laugh. “That’s one way to start the morning.”


	6. Chapter 6

When Emily got to work on Monday, she saw Penelope and JJ make a beeline for her desk. _Shit._

“Morning my love. How was your weekend with Sergio?” Garcia asked with a twinkle in her eye.

_Could they know?_ Emily’s heart started to race in a panic, but she replied as nonchalantly as she could manage, “It was great. He’s a little love bug. Snuggles all weekend.”

JJ and Garcia exchanged a fleeting look, and Emily tried to convince herself that it didn’t mean anything. She felt sorry that she had to keep things from her girls, but this was a secret she wasn’t ready to let out just yet.

“Conference room in 5, everyone.” She was saved from further questioning when Hotch called out to the bullpen. Emily chastised herself internally when she felt her stomach flip at the sight of him.

The atmosphere had shifted when she walked into the roundtable room. She and Hotch has decided yesterday that the office and their case work was off-limits. But that didn’t stop the faint buzz that crept across her skin when she was in the same room as him. It kept her on edge, distracted, and she couldn't have that at work. She had been the first to walk into the room so she could seat herself as far away from him as the table would allow.

Garcia began to present their latest case, and while his attention was focused on the screen, Hotch couldn’t help but keep one eye on Emily. The way she pursed her lips when she reviewed the case files. The way she tucked her hair behind her ear and then rested her hand on her neck. He hadn’t expected this, assuming that he could compartmentalize better when they were at work.

"Three women under the age of the 20 were kidnapped in Detroit, two weeks apart. Two bodies were found the side of the highway with evidence of brutal torture and sexual assault. They had been kept alive for 10 days. Detroit PD have an eyewitness that saw one of the victims get into a car on their way back home. The last victim was kidnapped 48 hours ago."

Hotch snapped back into focus — "Let's get to work. Wheel's up in 30." He walked into his office to gather his things, and the team headed to the airstrip.

* * *

The group made their way to their seats on the plane. Mercifully, Hotch kept his distance this time, and Emily wondered if it was because he felt the same pull, the same hum between them. After takeoff, Garcia popped up on the screen and the team began their debrief.

After a while, the team settled in silence, reviewing their case materials separately. Emily knew she should be focused on the case, but couldn't help but daydream for a few moments as she stared out the window. Of course, the only thing that came to mind was Hotch. They had spent the weekend locked away in his apartment, seemingly unable to tear themselves apart from each other. Like they believed their time would be cut short at any moment and they had to soak in as much as they could in the meantime. What had taken her by surprise was her comfort with him, that _"why haven't we been doing this for years?"_ feeling, which became the common thread of the weekend. She, of course, knew the answer to that. Between them was years of friendship and admiration that had fundamentally altered the moment she returned from Paris.

She closed her eyes as she recalled in flashes every intimate moment, every blistering touch, every sweet nothing he had whispered in her ear. The effect on her body was immediate — cheeks flushed, breath caught in her throat, the dull throb just south of her stomach. Her eyes flashed open and locked in with Hotch across the plane, who immediately recognized that darkened, glazed look. She glanced away, excusing herself to go the bathroom. Locking the door, she splashed some water on her face, rubbing it down her arms, anything to get herself calmed down. _This is ridiculous._ _You’re not a teenager, dammit._ Her breath finally steadied and she made her way out of the bathroom, only to run into Hotch who was standing in the hallway. Her hands had braced against his chest when she ran into him, but when she tried to pull them away, he held one in place. Emily was grateful for the curtain that hid them from the rest of the cabin. "Are you okay?" His face reflected equal parts concern and humor, knowing the reason behind Emily's behavior.

"Fine," she said, her blush betraying her. Even the minimal contact between them felt thrilling, forbidden.

"You sure?"

"Mhmm," she lowered her voice, "just a little hot and bothered."

She heard his breath hitch, a reaction to her words. She smirked at him and pushed past into the cabin, distracted enough that she missed the inquisitive look on JJ's face.

* * *

Emily walked into her hotel room and slumped against the door with a sigh. Today had been completely draining. While most cases didn't affect her, once in a while, she could feel herself wanting to curl up into a ball out of exhaustion. Now she had only a few hours to get refreshed before their morning call time. After a quick shower, she changed into an oversized t-shirt and crawled into bed, grateful for the cool sheets against her legs. A few seconds later, she heard a quiet knock at her door. She knew who it would be, but it was still a pleasant surprise to see Hotch standing there.

She let him in silently and closed the door behind them. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a deep kiss. She melted into him, hands on his chest, until she was out of breath. “Hi,” she breathed.

“Hi,” he punctuated with one soft kiss. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said, by way of explanation for his arrival.

"Mmm," she pulled away and walk back towards the bed. He followed her - a faint smile on his lips - and they both crawled under the covers. Laying on his side, Hotch cupped her neck and kissed her again, skirting his thumb over her cheek. His hands traveled down her body, skimming the hem of her shirt, then hitching her leg over his waist. She wrapped her arms around him, head on his chest, and listened to his heartbeat. They lay there for some time in silence, finding solace in each other’s arms, until they fell into a deep sleep.

The alarm blared rudely in the early morning. Emily reached her hand across to turn it off. She found Hotch sleeping with his head on her chest, arms wrapped around her, their legs intertwined. He stirred and raised his head to look at her, sleep still in his eyes, looking heart-stoppingly adorable. "Good morning."

The next few days on the case went by with a similar routine. Through the day, the team worked on narrowing down their profile — finally positing that a couple was kidnapping the victims. And with every day, it became easier for Hotch and Emily to separate their relationship from their work, finding their professional rhythm again. But every night that week was spent in each others' arms.


	7. Chapter 7

It had been a few months since that fateful night in Savannah, though it didn't feel that way to Emily. She and Hotch were caught up in their whirlwind, secret romance — which simultaneously felt like a torrid affair and that feeling of coming home after a long trip. They had settled into a comfortable routine at work, managing to keep their distance, save for a small touch or gesture in private. When the team wasn't traveling, she would spend most nights at Hotch's apartment. They hadn't yet explained to Jack exactly why Aunty Emily was suddenly having dinner with them almost every evening, but he was always thrilled to see her, and Emily had grown so fond of him.

One wintery Sunday morning, Hotch and Jack rang the doorbell to Emily's apartment. It was a rare occasion for Hotch and Emily to spend time together over a weekend, since those days were usually reserved for the Hotchner boys. But when Jack had asked to see Aunty Emily's house, she decided to invite them over for Sunday brunch.

She opened the door, a bright smile on her face, and was greeted by Jack holding a bouquet of lilies.

"Hi Aunty Emily! These are for you!"

"Oh, thank you so much, Jack! My favorite." she bent down to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. The boys walked into the apartment and were greeted by Sergio, who came to rub up against Hotch's leg with a purr. As Jack was momentarily distracted by the cat, Hotch held Emily's hand and gave her a kiss. "Thank you for the flowers," she whispered to him.

"Our pleasure," he replied with a smile.

They walked toward the living room when the timer went off. Emily dipped in to pull the frittata out of the oven and started to set the plates at her table.

"Aunty Emily, your house is pretty!" Jack exclaimed as he climbed onto his chair.

"Thank you, Jack! I'm glad you liked it. By the way,” she lowered her voice conspiratorially, “I made chocolate chip pancakes for you — how does that sound?"

He flashed her that gorgeous toothy grin that she loved and shook his head. Hotch looked at Emily and his son and felt that warmth in his chest that had become so familiar to him the last few months. His son adored Emily, would ask about her whenever she wasn’t around. And while Hotch had always known Emily to be good around Jack and Henry, he now felt overcome with a mixture of love and pride when he saw the bond they had created. He helped Emily with the last few dishes and their coffees, and the group sat down for their meal. While Jack started a descriptive story about his latest field trip, Hotch placed his hand on Emily's knee under the table. She smiled up at him and took his hand in hers.

"Daddy, right hand, red!" Jack yelled out. Hotch tried to stifle a groan as he reached his hand over to the red spot on the mat. Why they had agreed to play this game, he would never know. After brunch, Emily surprised the boys with a large collection of board games hidden in her closet. But when Jack picked out Twister and insisted on being the referee, Hotch and Emily couldn't help but roll their eyes with a laugh.

"Emily, right foot, blue!" Emily stretched her leg out, her body now practically horizontal and stretched under Hotch. When Jack called Hotch's next move, he barely moved his arm before he came toppling down, taking Emily down with him. The two hit the floor in a burst of laughter. Hotch looked down at Emily, brushing a piece of hair off her face, while she continued to laugh.

"Are you okay?" he asked with a huge grin. Emily thought her heart would stop at the sight of his face — joyous, bright, his dimples on full display.

"Yes, I'm fine," she said with a giggle. At that moment, Jack decided to pounce on his dad's back, wanting to join in the fun. This was the best Sunday he'd had in a long time.


	8. Chapter 8

Hotch had rarely felt so content. The adults were settled on the couch, absentmindedly watching TV, with Hotch's arm around Emily as she snuggled into his side. Jack had fallen into a deep sleep in the fort they spent the afternoon building.

The last few months with Emily had been the best of his life — and he was not one to be hyperbolic. He had never felt so deeply about someone so quickly, not even with Haley. Though, of course, it hadn't really been that quick at all. He had known Emily since she was 18. And in the last few years, they had gone through more than any two people probably should.

She was his solace. The only one who understood when to push him and when to give him space. She brought out the cheerful, playful side of him that he had worried was long dormant. But she could also challenge him, strong and stubborn enough to stand her ground and keep him on his toes. She saw everything — every flawed cell of his being — and stayed with him anyway. And he saw her too. Saw the confident, capable Agent Prentiss at work, and the loving, vulnerable Emily that loved to build pillow forts at home. He knew that she was still tentative, worried about giving her heart to him completely, after so much pain in her past. And he understood. But he also knew that he would regret not telling her exactly how he felt.

"Em?" he said softly.

"Mmm?"

He tucked two fingers under her chin and lifted so he could see her eyes. "I love you."

He saw her eyes widen, surprised at his words, and he detected a hit of panic as she tried to decide what to say. He tried to stop her brain from going into overdrive by pressing a soft kiss against her lips. "Don't worry, I don't expect you to say anything. I just needed you to know how I felt." Another kiss.

He felt her shoulders relax slightly, but he could still hear the turmoil in her voice when she said, "Aaron...it's not that I don't...it's just...the last person I said that to was Doyle, and I just—"

"Emily, Emily. Stop. I get it. I love you, but I'm in no rush. You can tell me if and when you feel ready. Understand?"

She just nodded, then wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in tightly and trying to express how she felt without words.

Their moment was interrupted by the doorbell. Hotch had asked Jessica to pick Jack up that evening, knowing he would be traveling on a case the next day. He went to open the door while Emily picked up a sleepy Jack.

“Jessica, thanks for coming.” Emily passed Jack over to Jessica who wrapped his small arms tightly around his aunt’s neck, staying asleep. Emily and Jessica exchanged tight smiles - they had a cordial, while not overly friendly, relationship. Hotch kissed his son’s head — "Night, Buddy" — and shut the door behind them.

“So where were we?” Hotch turned to face Emily, placing his hands on her hips, and resting his forehead on hers. She reached her hands between them, wrapping her arms around his neck to give him a kiss. Hotch felt her hesitation, the tentative way her lips touched his, and for a split second, he wondered if he’d made a mistake in expressing himself.

“Emily, are you-“ She cut him off with another kiss, this time more insistent. Hotch pulled back, not wanting to go any further when he knew something was still bothering her. “Emily, I think-“

She kissed him again, pressing her body against his, making her intentions clear. Hotch acquiesced this time, running his hands up her back and holding her against him. She brought her hands down, slipping it under his sweater and lifting it over his head. He gripped her hips tightly and steered her towards the bedroom, shedding her sweater in the process.

Emily felt her legs bump against the bed, then Hotch lifted her up and laid her down with her head against the pillows. Hotch began moving his lips down her, grazing the tops of her breasts, down her stomach. He stopped just at the band of her jeans, tracing his lips from hip to hip, enjoying the way she squirmed underneath him. He undid the button and slid her jeans and underwear off her legs. Emily shivered as the air hit her exposed skin.

Hotch put his hands on either side of Emily's face, looking down at her. She cupped his cheek, and he leaned in to kiss her palm. Emily flipped them both over, Hotch moving with her easily, so she was now laying on top of him. She ran her hands down through the hair on his chest, tracing his scars down his stomach, until she reached his belt buckle. She shifted so she could pull his pants down. Straddling him again, she bent down to kiss him, her hair falling around them. She could feel him hardening between her legs and she rocked against him gently. Her lips trailed down to his neck, her leisurely kisses juxtaposed by the teeth that scraped his skin. Lower and lower, until she had her lips wrapped around him. His hips bucked at her touch, as she moved slowly down his length. Her tongue swirled around him and Hotch laced his fingers in her hair, guiding her up and down with gentle tugs. His moans became louder and louder, until finally, he growled, "Emily, stop."

As she sat up again, Hotch gripped her thighs and flipped her over. He kissed her, the faint taste of him on her lips, and whispered, "Your turn."

But she shook her head and said, "Inside." Feeling him pause, she repeated, "Inside. Fuck me, Aaron. Please."

His hands slipped under her back for support, his fingers laced in her hair, his lips at her ear. "God, baby, you are so beautiful."

He pushed himself inside, and she whimpered, relishing the feeling of fullness. He began to move slowly, pulling out of her completely before he thrust in again. It wasn't the first time they had taken things slow, but this was different. All-consuming. The entire weight of his body on hers, the lack of space or air between them. Emily ran her hands down his back to his ass, feeling every muscle flex as he moved and digging her nails into his skin.

Emily could feel her release from a mile away. It was like waves, crashing on top of each other, bringing her closer and closer to her edge. Hotch picked up his speed slightly, and she knew he wasn't far behind her. "Aaron," she exhaled his name. "Come with me." He lifted his head, and they looked at each other. Her breath hitched as she read every emotion in his darkened eyes — his desire, his lust, his love for her. He watched the breath catch in her throat, her eyes roll back into her head.

"Let go, Emily. Let go for me."

She unraveled in his arms, and he followed a second behind her. They stayed still for a moment, their breaths jagged in each other's ears. And then, Hotch whispered, "I love you."

* * *

Emily was staring at the ceiling, her mind unable to settle down enough to sleep. She turned her head slightly and saw the outline of Hotch's back, breathing peacefully in his sleep.

 _I love you._ His words rang in her head over and over. It shouldn't have come as a surprise to her. They had been together for months now. And yet, she felt paralyzed.

Because the only person she had ever said those words to had been Ian Doyle. And that small part of her, that part of her that was Lauren, had meant them.

And this was Hotch. She couldn't risk destroying him the way she destroyed Doyle. He had already suffered too much, experienced the worst kind of tragedy. She refused to be the reason that got hurt again.

Deep down, if she was being honest with herself, she knew she loved him. She had known many men in her life, but she had never felt the way she felt with Hotch. _Aaron_. No one made her come apart the way he did. As if he was tugging at the frayed edges of her being, pulling out strings until he exposed every part of her.

She recalled the night she told him about Rome. Laying in bed together, she had recounted her past, her voice not raising louder than a whisper. He listened intently, without saying a word. And when she was finished, he simply put his arms around her and held her tightly, not letting go for hours.

She was loved. Loved by this man, who despite his burdens and scars, had opened himself up to her wholly. How could she not do the same? How could she not be brave for him the way he was with her?

Before she was even really aware of what she was doing, she had turned to her side, running a hand down Hotch's shoulder.

"Aaron."

He mumbled in his sleep, turning towards her. "Em?"

"Aaron. Listen to me." He cracked his eyes open. "I love you too."

Nothing for a moment, then he closed his eyes with a smile and pulled Emily close to him in an embrace. "That couldn't wait until the morning?" he said in her ear, teasing her just a bit, but she could hear the joy in his voice.

She laughed, "No, no it couldn't."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found casework to be really tough to write, so please bear with me on this chapter :)

Detective Hoffman and Emily piled into the SUV and drove away from the station. The team was in Middlesboro, Kentucky investigating a string of murders. Three brunette women in their 30s, all working in corporate jobs, beaten to death. The unsub was disorganized, clearly in the midst of a psychotic break, making it hard to predict his movements. Garcia had found a potential lead — a home contractor that had worked in all of the victims' homes — and Prentiss and Hoffman were on their way to speak with him.

Emily picked up the phone while they were en route. "Garcia, what can you tell me about this guy?"

"Well, my raven-haired beauty, Damien Bernardo grew up as an orphan, bouncing around the foster care system. His parents, Mary and David Bernardo, were killed by a drunk driver when Damien was 6 months old. Now, he's 47 years old, working as a home contractor. He's done work on a number of homes in the county. Popular in the area, good references. Divorced. 1 son."

"Wait — so is it possible that he would be our unsub?"

"I'd be surprised if he was. He seems to be well-integrated and well-liked in the community. His customers speak to his good nature and professional work."

"And our unsub is disorganized, frenzied. That's not the type of man who would do something like this. But it’s still worth talking to him if he's the only connection between the victims. Thanks, Garcia."

"Ciao, mon ami."

The car pulled up at Bernardo's home — a white colonial tucked away on a few acres of land. Hoffman and Prentiss approached the door — "Damien Bernardo, this is the FBI."

The door opened to reveal an average-looking man with salt and pepper hair and round glasses. "FBI? How can I help you?" His face reflected equal parts surprise and confusion at the agent and detective standing at the door.

Prentiss stepped forward, "Mr. Bernardo, we have just a few questions for you regarding an investigation into the recent murders of Tammy Bishop, Cecilia Miller, and Alex Day. Do you mind if we come inside?” The man stepped aside to let the agent and detective inside. As they walked towards the living room, Emily spotted a family picture on the wall — Damien, a brunette woman that was presumably his ex-wife, and their young son.

“Mr. Bernardo, can you tell me about your employment period with the victims? You did work on their homes, correct?”

“Well, yes, I did work for all three of them a few months ago. For the Bishops, it was a kitchen remodel. For the Days, I did some electrical work. And for the Millers, I did some upgrades to their bathroom.”

“And in the time you spent at their homes, did you notice anything strange about their behavior?”

“No, they were all very pleasant.”

“Did you notice anyone else that would hang around their homes? Any cars always parked outside?” He shook his head no.

Hoffman chimed in, “Do you employ anyone else on these jobs, Mr. Bernardo?”

“No, it’s just me. Well, sometimes my son helps me out if the projects are more labor-intensive. Bad back, you know,” he said, letting out a small chuckle.

“Did your son accompany you to these victims’ homes?”

“Yes, he did.”

Hoffman and Prentiss shot each other a look. “Can you tell me a bit about your son?”

“Paul? Well, he’s 19 now. He was enrolled at the University of Kentucky on a football scholarship, but he dropped out a few months ago.” He paused, careful with his next words. “His mom and I split up when Paul left for school. We had been unhappy for a while, really just delaying the inevitable until Paul had left. He took it pretty hard. Drinking a lot, acting out. I try to keep him busy with my work as much as I can.”

“And where is your wife now?”

“Oh, she moved to Illinois. She recently got re-married. About 3 months ago now.”

The pieces started to click in Emily’s head. _The first murder was about 9 weeks ago._ She stood up and said, “Mr. Bernardo, where is your son now? We’d like to speak with him.”

“Um, he should be in his room. I can check upstairs.” Prentiss nodded, and as the man walked up, she dialed Garcia.

“Garcia, I need everything you can get me on Damien Bernado’s son, Paul. I think he may be our unsub.”

“Okay, typing at the speed of light! Paul Bernardo. Good student in high school. Played football, and got a scholarship for college. Recently dropped out of the University of Kentucky. He faced disciplinary charges a month before he left for violence towards another student. Lives with his dad now-“

She was cut off when Mr. Bernardo came down the stairs with a concerned look on his face. “He’s not there.”

“Is there anywhere you think your son might have gone?”

“Well, he has a woodshop out back where spends a lot of his time. Otherwise, he could be by the creek having a smoke.”

Prentiss nodded a thank you and walked out the door. She told Hoffman, “You take the creek behind the house and I’ll take the woodshop.” As she walked away, she dialed Hotch. “Hotch, I think we got our unsub. Damien Bernardo, the contractor who worked the victims’ homes? His son was with him at the homes, and he has a history of violence and erratic behavior following his parent’s divorce.”

“Got it. Where are you now?” he replied.

“Bernardo lives at home with his father. Hoffman and I split up to cover the grounds. He has a shed where he spends his time and Hoffman is checking out the creek where he smokes.”

“I’ve already alerted the PD. Wait for backup to enter. We’re on our way.”

“Got it.” She made her way around the house carefully, planning to keep her eye on the shed until backup arrived. She moved a few paces, passing through the wooded yard until she came upon the small structure. Her radio turned on and crackled in her ear as her team approached.

“Prentiss, we’re 5 minutes out.”

“Copy. I have eyes on the shed and waiting for backup.” She stepped behind a tree to conceal herself, her gun out in front of her.

After a minute, she heard a scream coming from inside the shed. _Female. Oh shit._ “Hotch, I have to go in. I heard a woman's scream from inside.”

“Prentiss, no, stay put. We’re almost there.”

“No, I need to go in.”

Hotch could hear her rustle on the other end, pressing the gas pedal harder as he raced towards the house. “Prentiss, I’m ordering you to stand your ground. Wait for backup.”

She didn’t reply, but he could hear her moving. _Fucking hell._ He was barreling down the street now, his knuckles white as he gripped the wheel. "Emily. Stop."

No reply.

Then, he heard a loud bang, and her voice. “FBI. Paul Bernardo, put your hands where I can see them.”

Emily stepped into the shed, her eyes adjusting to the darkened light. She saw the limp body of a young woman on the floor, her dark hair matted with blood. She took another step and saw the woman take a nearly imperceptible breath. _Thank god. She’s still alive._ Her eyes did a sweep but couldn't find Bernardo. Hotch's voice was rough in her ear — "Prentiss. Talk to me. What's going on?"

She replied, "The victim's in bad shape but alive. But I don't see—" Her voice cut out with a loud thud. _Fuck._

Emily was on her back before she could register what happened. A ringing in her ears. Eyes blurring. She reached her hand up to her temple and felt something wet. Blood.

Then, a man came into her view. Paul Bernardo. Emily tapped the ground around her, looking for her gun. She caught it in the corner of her eye, laying just out of her reach. She looked up at Paul again, who was towering over her. Despite his young age, his body was muscular and his eyes wild. He reared his arm back and brought it down to hit her again. Emily rolled over towards her gun in the time, and Bernardo's fist hit the ground. Emily kicked his hip, knocking him to the side, grabbed her gun in the process, and aimed it towards him.

"On the ground. Now."

Bernardo ignored her and charged towards her. Two gunshots rang out, and Bernardo was on the ground.

When Hotch and the team stormed into the shed, they found Emily with the victim, her hands pressed against the wounds. Morgan walked up to Prentiss, helping her up. "Come on, let's get you to the ambulance."

* * *

Hotch avoided Emily for the rest of the evening and all through the flight back to Quantico. She knew that he was upset with her, so she was all too happy to keep her distance. The medics had cleared her — just a mild concussion — and the victim, Julia Rafferty, was going to live. It was a good day in her book.

The team wrapped up their files in the office and left for the evening, piling into the elevator. Once the elevator doors opened, the rest of the team filtered out and Emily started to walk out ahead of Hotch, but he wrapped his hand around her arm like a vice and pulled her back toward him. She couldn’t see his face, but his voice crept against her skin, making the hair on her neck stand up straight. “I’ll be at your place in 20.” She shivered at his voice, controlled but laced with anger, and walked out of the elevator without saying anything.

His knock at her door was curt, a simple one-two. When she opened it, he walked past her in silence. She shut the door carefully behind him and turned to face him with a sigh, fully anticipating the fight. He was leaning against her kitchen counter, his hand covering his face. She waited for a second, then said, “Aaron?”

He refused to meet her eyes, but ran his hand through his hair. She walked up toward him, careful and controlled in her movements, until she was standing directly in front of him. She placed her hands on his sides and softly repeated his name. “Aaron. Talk to me.”

Hotch put his hands on her shoulders, his grip tight, but still looking at the floor. “Emily. How...how could you do that?” His voice was devoid of the usual warmth it had when he spoke to her. Instead, it was quiet, clipped, and it felt like a bucket of cold water had poured down her back.

“Aaron, I had to. You know that. You would have done the same if you were in my shoes.”

“No. No, I wouldn’t have.” She felt his fingers tighten on her, his voice rising slightly. "It was so incredibly reckless. God, Emily, you could have died.”

Finally, he locked eyes with her and she could read all the hurt, anger, and fear in his face. And for a split second, she was regretful of her actions.

"But I didn't. I'm fine. Look." She cupped his cheek, her voice softening. He closed his eyes at her touch, but then took a step away from her, trying to create some distance between them.

“You disobeyed my order, and you put yourself in harm's way because of it. I have to be able to trust you in the field. How am I supposed to do that now?"

She could feel herself start to get defensive, her voice getting louder to match his. "That woman would have died if I hadn't gone in there. This is the job, Hotch!" He flinched slightly at her use of his last name at home. "You've never questioned me in the field before. I'm sorry that you were worried about me, and I'm sorry I disobeyed an order, but it was the right thing to do. I handled it."

They stared at each other, willing the other to back down first. He could see the challenge, the stubbornness in her eyes. And beneath all his anger and frustration, she could see something darker. Something that made her stomach clench.

Hotch moved quickly to cover the short distance between them, grabbing Emily's face between his hands and pressing his lips to hers. The force of it pushed her against the fridge, and she had to brace herself on his arms as her knees gave out. She could feel everything in that kiss. His anger in the way his tongue pushed hard into her mouth. His love in the way his thumbs brushed her cheeks. His desire for her in the way his body pressed against her. Her body began to respond, arching into his as he held her tight against the cool surface.

He broke away first and rested his forehead against hers as their breathing slowed. "I am still incredibly pissed at you. But right now, I'm taking you to bed." His voice was gravelly and deep, and it did something funny to her insides. She nodded, understanding the need to get lost in each other after a day like this. He grabbed her hand and took her to the bedroom.

As they walked into the room, Hotch whispered against her lips, “Take off your clothes." She obliged, pulling her shirt off her head and unclasping her bra. He watched her, hunger in his eyes, as he removed his own shirt. Grabbing her waist, he turned her around so her back was flush against him. One hand pushed her hair to the side, exposing her neck, while the other splayed across her stomach. His lips pressed against her shoulder as his hand began to move slowly up her body. A sigh escaped her lips, as his hand snaked up to cup her breast. His other hand made its way down, unbuttoning her jeans, and he slipped his hand inside.

“Emily?” His teeth started to nip her earlobe as he began to tease her over her underwear.

“Mm?”

His hand moved up from her breast to her throat, circling it completely. “Promise me...” he growled into her ear, putting the slightest pressure on her throat. His other hand continued to tease, refusing to give her what she desperately wanted. “Promise me. You will. Never. Do that. Again.”

Emily felt pride flare up in her chest, her stubborn side not wanting to give into him. But her body couldn’t help but respond to his ministrations. His hand was deliciously pressed against her throat, a dominance he rarely exhibited with her. _But damn, it feels good._ Her hips started to buck at his touch, frustrated at the lack of attention down there.

“Emily?” His voice never wavered, deep and authoritative. He had complete control of her at that moment. It made her stomach tighten with pleasure, and she knew she couldn’t withhold much longer.

“I promise,” her voice a quiet whisper.

“What was that?” he pressed slightly on her throat again, causing her to let out a whimper.

“I promise,” she repeated, her voice louder now.

“Good girl,” he murmured, relaxing his grip on her. She wondered if it was possible for her to melt on the floor right there.

He finally slipped his hand under her underwear, pressing against her center before dipping his fingers into her. “Oh, Em, you’re so ready," he crooned, desire replacing the authority in his voice.

His fingers moved faster now, stroking her wall as his palm pushed against her center. His lips started to nip and suck at her neck, knowing he would see those bruises on her tomorrow. Her groans became louder, and he could feel her start to clench around him. “Come for me, baby.” His words were her undoing and they sent her careening over the edge.

When Emily came to, she found herself facing Hotch, his arms wrapped around her to hold her up. He brushed the hair away from her face and asked gently, “Are you okay?”

“Mhmm." She leisurely wrapped her arms around his neck. “Why are you still wearing clothes?” she asked, eliciting a small smile from Hotch. She brought her hands down to unbuckle his belt, and he helped her remove his pants. Her jeans were still sitting on her hips, so she shimmied out of them and pulled him toward the bed.

Hotch sat on the bed, his back resting against the headboard. She straddled him, enjoying the groan she got as she rocked against his erection. The atmosphere between them darkened again when her lips met his. She bit his bottom lip, hard, and smirked as he hissed against her mouth. He snuck his hand into her hair, grabbing a fistful and tugging her head back to kiss her now exposed neck. He wrapped his other arm around her waist to lift her up, then guided her onto him. "Fuck," she breathed towards the ceiling, appreciating the fullness of him inside her. He bucked into her, pushing in as deep as he could possibly go, prompting another groan. She buried her face into his neck, her arms around him for support, and she started to move. It was fast, desperate, consuming. He kept his hand gripped in her hair so it tugged with every movement. Already sensitive, she could feel herself tighten again, delivering a string of expletives through her release. He followed right behind, tightening his grip in her hair as he exhaled Emily's name.

Hotch caressed her back lightly as she recovered, finally lifting herself off him and laying down with a sigh. She turned to face him, opening her mouth to say something, but stopped herself. He was uncharacteristically distant. Usually, he would have wrapped his arms around her by now, telling her how much he loves her. But tonight, he was sitting up against the bed and she could see him retreat into himself. Emily moved toward him, leaning on his side and chest, and he instinctively put his arm around her, but he still quietly faced away.

“Penny for your thoughts, Hotchner?” she finally asked in a soft voice. He just pressed his lips against her hair and said nothing.

“Talk to me, please.”

He opened his mouth and closed it again, pursing his lips together tightly. Normally, she would have stopped at this point, understanding that he didn’t want to communicate right now. But given the fact that they both had to go back to work tomorrow, and that he had just used sex to get her to accede to him, she knew she had to keep prodding. “Aaron?” she asked again, her voice a little harder this time.

He put his hand over his face, like he couldn’t say the words if he was looking at her. Finally, “Emily,” he sighed, “I trust you. Of course I do. I trust you with my life and with the lives of the team.“ He finally looked at her. “But I will never be okay with you putting yourself in danger unnecessarily.”

She opened her mouth to protest but was cut off. “I already lost one woman I love to this job. I won’t let that happen again.” He was staring down at his lap now, voice quiet and eyes averted.

Every part of her, all the defiance and stubbornness, softened. _Haley._ He was driving in the car, Emily’s voice on the other end of the line, unable to help her while he listened to her get hurt. She should have realized how this would have affected him. Sitting up straighter, she took his face into her hands, forcing him to look at her.

"Aaron. Look at me. I'm sorry. Really, I am.”

He wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her in tight, pressing his lips to her temple again. “I’m sorry too.”

After a beat, she said softly, “But you know that this will happen sometimes. We both go out into the field every day. Danger is just an inherent part of what we do.”

“I know,” he sighed again. “I just couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you that I could have prevented. Just...just promise me you’ll be more careful. For me.”

She nodded and curled herself against him. “I love you.”

“I love you too. More than anything.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Finally!” JJ exclaimed as Penelope walked over with three drinks in her hand. It was the weekend after their case in Kentucky, and JJ insisted on a girls' night.

“Sorry, sorry, my loves. The line was ginormous.” She passed the drinks to the group — beer for JJ, a whiskey for Emily, and a cocktail for herself.

“Cheers!” Emily lifted her glass and the group clinked.

“So Em, how are you feeling? You got knocked around pretty badly in Kentucky.”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. I’ve survived worse,” she waved away their concern.

JJ’s phone buzzed, and her companions groaned. “Please don’t tell me—“

“No, don’t worry. It’s just Will.”

“How is our handsome detective?”

“He’s fine.” Emily and Penelope didn’t miss the blush that crept across JJ’s face.

“Oh, spill!”

“What? It’s nothing.”

“Come on,” Penelope whined. “You’re the only one here in a relationship. We live vicariously through you!” Emily took a swig of her drink, trying to mask her cough. It didn’t work.

“Emily?” JJ turned to her.

“What?” she said, eyes widening to feign innocence. _Shit. Shit. Shit._

“Are you seeing someone?” Penelope clapped her hands in excitement.

“Why would you ask that? And I thought we were talking about JJ here!”

“Hmm, deflection. Interesting.”

And at that moment, as if he knew what they were talking about, Emily’s phone rang. _Aaron_. “Sorry guys, I have to take this.”

“Say hello to your mystery man from us!” JJ called out as Emily walked away. Then she turned to Penelope and said with a giggle, “Though it’s not much of a mystery, is it?”

Emily stepped out onto the sidewalk and answered the phone with a smile. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Hotch’s voice was deep and warm. “How’s girls' night?”

“Fun. Though you and I were almost outed a few seconds ago.”

He chuckled, the low sound sparking butterflies in her stomach. “I’m glad. That you’re having fun, I mean. I was calling to ask if you wanted to come over tonight? After you’re finished, of course.”

“I’d love to. But don’t you have Jack tonight?”

“He has a sleepover.”

Emily couldn’t wipe the cheesy grin off her face. They were grateful for any night they could spend together when they didn’t need to rush into the office in the morning.

“Give me a couple of hours and I’ll be there.”

“Perfect. Have fun.”

She walked back to her table, and the girls both had suggestive looks on their faces.

“So, what did Mystery Man want?” JJ asked.

Emily rolled her eyes as she sat down. “There’s no mystery m—“

“Oh, Emily, stop it! We know it’s Hotch!” Penelope blurted out.

Emily sputtered over her drink, while JJ shot Penelope a glare.

“JJ, I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t keep it in any longer!”

Emily‘s eyes passed between her two friends, and she resigned herself with a sigh, “How long have you known?”

“We had an inkling after we got back from Savannah, but I knew for sure during the Detroit case.” Emily’s eyes widened and JJ explained with a shrug, “His hotel room was empty the whole week.”

Emily nodded sheepishly. “Does the whole team know?” Her question was answered by the grins flashed at her.

“Figures,” she mumbled. “And you guys are, you know, fine with it?”

“Are you kidding? We’ve watched the two of you moon over each other for the last 5 years,” Penelope exclaimed.

JJ placed her hand over Emily’s arm and said more seriously, “Em, this is a good thing. You’re perfect for each other.”

A shy smile passed over Emily’s face. This wasn’t exactly how she expected the team to find out, but she was grateful to have the support of her closest friends. Her next concern was how Aaron would react to the news.

Penelope broke her train of thought. “Now, enough of the boring stuff! We need all the juicy details!”

When Emily knocked on Hotch’s door a few hours later, she pulled him towards her in a kiss before he even had the chance to close the door.

“Mmm, hello to you too," he said as he wrapped his arms around her.

She grinned at him, her eyes glassy from the drinks. “By the way, we’re busted.”

* * *

The next Monday morning, Emily walked into the office on edge. JJ and Penelope had been supportive, and if she was being honest, it was a relief to be able to talk with her friends about her relationship. Hotch had taken the news of their outing surprisingly well. He had just chuckled and said, “We should have given them more credit.” But now that their relationship was out in the open, Emily couldn’t help but feel worried about the new team dynamic.

She placed her bag at her desk and walked over to the kitchen to pour herself some coffee. Morgan passed her the carafe and said, “Morning, princess. How was your weekend?”

“Good," she replied tentatively. "And yours?”

“Oh you know me, always having a good time.” He turned and lifted his eyebrows with a smile. “So, I heard girls night was...interesting.”

“You heard?” He shot her a look and she sighed. “Garcia. Of course.”

He laughed, hands up, “Hey, I’m just glad we can finally talk about it.”

“Man, I can’t believe everyone knew this whole time.” Emily shook her head in disbelief. “And Morgan, you’re...okay with it, right?”

“Listen, Em, if there were any two people I could trust to be together without letting it affect the work, it would be you guys. It’s all good, girl.”

She smiled, grateful for his words, and said, “Thanks.”

Morgan then got a wicked glint in his eyes, and Emily braced herself for his next question. As he started to say something, JJ and Reid walked over to the kitchen. “Hey guys, how was your weekend?”

“Good, though clearly not as good as Emily’s,” Morgan joked suggestively.

Emily whacked his arm as JJ burst out laughing. Reid cracked a smile, but tucked his hands into his pockets, looking uncomfortable. “Yeah, yeah. Get all your jokes out now before Hotch gets here.”

As if on cue, the doors to the BAU opened and Hotch walked in, passing the group. He gave them a curt “Morning” as he made his way into his office, giving them no indication that anything had changed.

“Ever the professional,” JJ commented once he was out of earshot.

“I just hope he’s not that serious with you in the bedroom,” Morgan chuckled as the group made their way back to the bullpen. Emily blushed furiously but was saved from further interrogation when Hotch called the team into the round table room. _Oh, thank god._

The team stuck around the office that day, wrapping up some work for active trials. When everyone started to pack up their things for the evening, Emily made her way to Hotch’s office, knocking lightly at his door before entering.

“Emily,” he looked up from his desk, exhausted but smiling.

“Hi. Everyone’s heading out. Are you going to be much longer?”

Hotch frowned, “Unfortunately. I have a lot of paperwork to wrap up, so I’m going to be here for a few more hours.”

“Is there anything I can help with?” Emily walked the distance of his office to stand next to him. Feeling brave, she placed a hand on his shoulder. He covered it with his own, rubbing his thumb against her hand.

“No, I’m fine. Thank you. Go get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Emily nodded, feeling the urge to kiss him goodnight, but deciding it wasn’t the smartest idea. “Goodnight.” She started to step away, until Hotch grabbed her hand again, bringing it up to his lips in a soft kiss. She felt her chest fill with warmth at the sweet gesture.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

An hour later, there was another knock on Hotch’s door. “Come in,” he said, surprised, assuming everyone had left for the night.

Rossi stood at the doorway, two glasses in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in the other. “I figured you could use a bit of a break.” Hotch chuckled and gestured towards his couch.

Drinks in hand, Rossi prompted, “So. Emily.”

“Not beating around the bush, I see.” Hotch lifted an eyebrow as he took a sip of his drink.

“When have you ever known me to do that? And don’t avoid the subject.”

“I’m not avoiding it,” Hotch said, setting his drink down on the table.

“I, for one, think it’s a great thing. You both deserve some happiness in your lives after everything that’s happened.”

Hotch looked at Rossi, a faint smile at the corner of his lips. “Thanks.”

“So then, what’s bugging you?”

A loud sigh escaped Hotch’s lips. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the right thing. Doing right by her. We’re both in such a precarious position and could lose each other so easily. Is it right to get ourselves more emotionally involved than we already are? And she still has a long, successful career ahead of her. Aren’t I jeopardizing that?”

“Aaron, this is Emily. She isn’t some woman you met at a bar. And she isn’t Haley either. That girl is a force to be reckoned with. She knows better than anyone the consequences of this job, and she’s a hell of a lot smarter and stronger than either one of us. But more importantly, she has a good heart and she’s fiercely loyal to her family. To you. That matters to her more than any job ever would.”

Hotch didn’t respond, just looked down at his glass.

“You love her, don’t you?” Rossi asked, his voice more insistent. Hotch nodded.

“Then, that’s all there is to it. Stop being afraid of what could be, and enjoy the time you have with a woman who is just as crazy about you as you are about her.”

Hotch didn’t respond for a minute, then a smirk emerged on his lips. “I didn’t think you were so invested in my romantic life, Dave.”

“Hey, I’ve always been a romantic. Ask any of my wives.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a filler chapter, but I've always wanted to imagine the reactions of the team to their first inter-team romance, so I tried to write in as many team relationships as I could :)


	11. Chapter 11

“We should go out for dinner tomorrow.”

Hotch and Emily were sitting next to each other in his bed, propped up against the headboard, her leg draped over his. He was reading the newspaper, while Emily flipped the pages of a novel. She turned to him, a bit surprised at the seemingly random suggestion. “Sure. Any special occasion?”

“The Savannah case? That was a year ago today.”

Emily blushed, embarrassed that she didn’t remember. "Has it been that long already?"

"Apparently," he looked at her with a smirk. He set his paper on the nightstand and tugged the book out of Emily’s hands.

“Hey!”

He shushed her, pulling her down so she was laying on the bed, facing him. He ran a finger along the side of her face, tucking an errant strand of hair behind her ear, then leaned in to kiss her. She rolled, pulling him on top of her, and allowed him to settle between her legs. His hands traveled up her bare legs, brushing against her underwear as he slipped underneath her shirt. His lips moved down her neck to her collarbone, and she ran her hands across his shoulders.

They moved together with ease, that comforting familiarity taking over after a year of late nights together. As he traced his lips over her skin, Hotch smiled as he prompted a moan. He loved that he knew her body so well, knew all those hidden spots that made her shiver. She sat up slightly, allowing him to remove her shirt, and his lips went back to the task at hand.

“A whole year,” she sighed out of the blue.

“Mmm?” he murmured against her stomach.

“Savannah.” Her voice was almost wistful. Hotch looked up at her, eyebrow arched. Emily was not one to be nostalgic. She noticed his inquisitive stare and shook her head. “I’m just surprised, I guess.”

He shifted so he was leaning on his side, getting a better view of her. “Surprised?”

“Mhmm.” She reached out to run her hand through his hair. "I’m really happy when I'm with you, Hotchner," she said, as simply as if she was talking about the weather. She pulled him closer to her so she could kiss him again.

It wasn’t that they hesitated to express their feelings to each other, especially in recent months. But her words warmed his heart nonetheless, knowing how far they’d come together. He smiled against her lips, whispering, “I love you," as they lost themselves in each other. 

Hotch's phone rang early in the morning, waking both him and Emily. He turned towards his nightstand, noticing it was still dark outside. He picked up his phone — _5:28am_ — and answered, "Hotchner?"

"Morning, sir. Sorry to call you in this early, but we just received a report of a missing boy in Baltimore. He was abducted from his home a few hours ago. Baltimore PD is requesting our help."

"Got it. Emily and I will be there in 20." 

* * *

The mood was somber on the drive back to Quantico that evening. Morgan drove in silence, while Rossi sat next to him, looking pensively out the window. Hotch and Emily sat in the back, their heads resting on each other while they slept. It was an uncharacteristic display of affection for them, but no one seemed to mind, understanding the need for small comforts after a day like this one.

The team had arrived at the family’s home early that morning. Garcia had tracked down two other missing children who fell under the same M.O., but the team struggled to find a connection between the three boys. The ticking clock loomed over them, but hard as they tried, none of their leads panned out. They found the body a few hours later, tossed in an alleyway. The unsub was caught trying to evade the police barricades, but that didn’t stop the gut-wrenching feeling that overwhelmed the team. They were too late to save the boy.

When Hotch and Emily got back to his apartment, they were greeted by Jessica. "Jack's been asleep for an hour now."

"Thank you, I really appreciate it. It's late. Do you want to spend the night here?"

"No, I'm fine, I'll head back to my place. Have a good night, you two."

Hotch walked Jessica to the door, and when he turned around, Emily was no longer standing in the living room. He made his way back to Jack's room and found her sitting on the edge of Jack's bed. She was stroking his hair as he slept peacefully. He walked up to her, placing a hand on her shoulder, smiling down at the two of them.

She whispered, "I'm sorry, I just wanted to see him. After everything that happened."

"I know." He came around to give Jack a kiss on the head. He stirred a little but didn't wake. They were both silent, watching over the young boy, grateful that he was safely in his bed.

After a minute, Emily stood up and whispered, "We missed our dinner." He gave her a sad smile and nodded. "I'll go order us a pizza."

He watched her retreat from the room and looked down at his sleeping son, stroking his hair gently. It hit Hotch at that moment, just how much the three of them had become their own little family. He always made it a point to talk to his son about Haley, even more so now as Jack got closer to Emily. But there was no denying that Emily had become a part of Jack's life, and she welcomed his presence with more love than Hotch could have ever hoped for. The realization prompted that nagging feeling that had become familiar to him for weeks now. An itch at the base of his throat that he couldn't seem to scratch.

He got up from his son's bed to join Emily in the living room. She was distracted, on the phone with a pizza place, giving him a private moment to admire her. It amazed him how she still took his breath away. He often found himself trying to reconcile the woman he had come to know so intimately, the one who came apart so beautifully with his touch every night, with the formidable agent he knew at work. Two halves of the same breathtaking coin. As he watched her, that nagging itch became more persistent, more purposeful. A question emerged in his mind, surprising him. But as it traveled through his head, settling carefully on his tongue, he could feel the itch dissipate. He knew then what he wanted, what he needed, to do.


	12. Chapter 12

"Emily?"

"Hmm?" She faced away from him, rustling around in the kitchen for a corkscrew.

He paused for a second, his throat tightening with the profound significance of his next words.

"Marry me."

Emily chuckled softly, sure that he was joking, and started to open the bottle of wine on the counter.

"I'm serious." Her head whipped towards him this time, trying to read his face and seeing no trace of humor.

Her eyes widened with surprise. "Aaron..."

He took a step forward, closing the distance between them. He approached her with caution, as if he was expecting her to run at any second. “Listen to me. I know it’s a surprise. I certainly didn’t intend on doing this tonight.” He took her hands in his. “But I am sure. I love you, and I want us to spend the rest of our lives together.”

“I love you too, but we...we haven’t talked about this yet. And it's been such an emotional day. Shouldn’t we—“

Her protestations were cut off by Aaron’s lips on hers. She responded instinctively, her hands gripping his biceps, her body curving into his. When they pulled apart, his warm hands framed her face. His eyes were like pools of dark honey, the intensity of his gaze burning right through her and taking her breath away.

"Emily Elizabeth Prentiss. Marry me."

It was an agonizing minute of silence as they stood there, the proposal hanging over them like a cloud. Hotch watched a spectrum of emotions flit across her face, trying to read her but failing. Then, finally, a shaky whisper. “Yes.”

The corner of Hotch’s lips lifted tentatively. “Yes?”

Emily took a breath, her voice more resolute this time. “Yes.”

The grin on Hotch’s face was blinding. His arms moved down to Emily’s waist, wrapping around her and lifting her up with a spin. She squealed and giggled, her arms tight around his neck.

He placed her gently on the ground, his hand pressing the small of her back so he could hold her close when he kissed her. He rested his forehead on hers and chuckled. “I have to say, I thought I’d have to do a lot more convincing.”

She returned his laugh, snuggling herself into his chest in a warm embrace. They stood like that for some time, taking a moment to absorb this unexpected turn of events.

Suddenly, Hotch pulled away, remembering something.

"What?" she said, surprised.

He had a shy smile on his face. "Stay there." He started to walk away.

"Why?"

"Don't move!" Emily watched him disappear into his bedroom.

He emerged after a few minutes, holding a small velvet pouch. He stood in front of her again. "We can go pick out another ring tomorrow if you’d like. But I wondered,” he opened the purse, “if we could seal the deal with this." Inside was a white gold band with delicate diamonds woven together with intricate filigree. "It's the only family heirloom I have. My grandmother's."

Emily tried to fight back the tears that sprung at the corner of her eyes. She shook her head and whispered, "It's perfect." She reached for the ring, but he pulled it away. Instead, he bent down on one knee and took her hand, sliding the ring onto her finger. A perfect fit. He pressed his lips to the back of her hand and looked up at her, his love for her practically radiating off him.

She helped him up so he was standing in front of her again. His eyes had welled up, mirroring her own. She tiptoed, snaking her arms around his back, so she could kiss him. It was passionate, deliberate. Hotch’s arms held her as close to him as they could manage. He pulled away first, out of breath, but her lips stayed against his skin. Moved down to his chin, then journeyed across his jawline, until she reached his ear. She whispered there, "I love you so much."

When she stepped back, he swooped down and carried her bridal style to the bedroom. She yelped, holding onto him. He laid her gently on the bed, her legs hanging off the end. A quick peck on her lips as he removed her shirt, and then he was kneeling on the floor. He made quick work of her pants, sliding them off her legs. His lips made the journey from her ankle, up her calf, to her thigh. She squirmed underneath him as he nipped at that spot that always made her moan.

Emily’s skin felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending singing. Despite the many nights they’d had together, tonight still felt different somehow. There was a joy, a reverence, in his touch that came with the promise of a future together. Her fingers intertwined in his hair, as his lips reached their destination. She gasped as his tongue began circling her, giving her no reprieve as he slid in one, then two fingers. Her body responded, trying to jerk away as he stroked inside her, but his other hand held her firmly in place.

His name was like a benediction on her lips as her release hit, shattering her completely. She felt his lips press against her thigh, then her stomach, and then her neck. As her vision recovered, she opened her eyes to see him laying next to her. She smiled up at him as he stroked her hair. "You are so beautiful, love," he crooned, kissing her temple.

He obliged when she rolled onto him. He caressed her legs, up and down, as she made quick work of buttons on his shirt. She bent down, taking his face between her hands as she kissed his lips, her hips rocking gently against him. He moaned against her mouth as her hands started working his belt, but a knock at the front door made them both jump. She sat up straight, “Shit, the pizza.” He laughed at her expression and lifted her off him, buttoning his shirt again as he walked to the door.

When he returned, wine glasses in hand, he found Emily sitting under the covers, her knees tucked up against her chest. “Don’t get too comfortable, Prentiss.” He flashed her a wicked smile as he placed the glasses down on her nightstand. “I’m not done with you yet.”

* * *

When Emily and Hotch arrived at the office the next morning, she kept her left hand hidden inside her pocket. She found herself fiddling with the ring constantly, getting used to its presence on her finger.

Last night still felt surreal, like a dream. She had woken up early this morning, Aaron’s arms wrapped around her, and stared at the band on her finger for what felt like hours. Turning her hand around and around, watching the sunlight bounce off the small diamonds. Reveling at the fact that she would get to spend the rest of her life with him by her side.

As everyone filtered into the conference room for the morning briefing, Hotch took his seat to the left of Emily, a knowing smile passing between them.

Immediately, Rossi locked on to the exchange. "What's going on, you two?"

Hotch and Emily looked at each other for a second, silently communicating their agreement. Then Emily pulled her hand out of her pocket and gently placed it on the table. Everyone's eyes zeroed in on the band around her finger.

"We have some good news," Hotch said simply.

The cheers were deafening. Emily felt herself being pulled up out of her seat, embraced immediately by JJ and Penelope, who then fawned over the ring. Rossi and Morgan shook Hotch's hand, passing their congratulations.

Penelope whispered, still loud enough that everyone could hear, "Wait, are you pregs?" prompting a laugh from Emily.

"No!" she exclaimed. Penelope almost looked disappointed.

Reid came around to Emily, wrapping his arms around her in a warm hug. "Congratulations, Emily.” She held him tightly, grateful for his support.

Rossi broke the moment with a loud guffaw. Everyone turned to him, confused, until he chuckled, “Guess you’ll finally have to break the news to Strauss.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Don’t remind me.”

The mention of their section chief snapped Hotch’s attention back to work. “We can all talk more later. Let’s focus up. Garcia?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the lovely comments and kudos!  
> Lmk what you think about Hotch’s proposal! I couldn’t picture the two of them having a “traditional” planned proposal or a traditional engagement ring, so this felt fitting. Hope you all like the update! :)


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ve reached the end, friends! Thank you all so much for sticking with this story and for your kind comments/kudos <3

And then, in what felt like the blink of an eye, the day had arrived.

Their guests rose to their feet as the instrumental music started to swell. Aaron turned to see Emily standing at the other end of the aisle, and he was certain in that moment that his heart had stopped beating.

Her dress was a clean, white satin sheath. Cap-sleeved and fitted against her body, accenting her curves before falling elegantly at her feet. The stark white was contrasted by her dark hair, brushing the tops of her shoulders in relaxed waves. Her makeup was minimal. Mascara on the eyes, a faint spot of blush, and a wash of dusty rose on her lips. Her hands held a bouquet of white lilies.

She started to walk, admiring her soon-to-be husband waiting for her in his crisp black suit. Their eyes locked, and the rest of her surroundings — guests with their eyes on her, the candles lining the aisle, Rossi standing behind Aaron in the gazebo — seemed to fade away. It was just the two of them, and all of her nerves evaporated as she slowly made her way towards him.

When Emily reached her destination, she passed her bouquet to JJ, who was sitting in the front row next to Jack. He had a wide grin his face, and Emily caught the wink that Hotch sent his son as she turned to face him. Hotch extended his hand, helping Emily up the single step to the altar. Neither of them could stop their smiles as they took each other’s hands.

The ceremony was simple. They opted for traditional vows, reciting after Rossi, both their voices thick with emotion. And when Rossi finally proclaimed them husband and wife, Aaron put his arm around Emily's waist and pulled her towards him for that all-important kiss.

The small crowd was cheering on their feet. As they walked hand-in-hand away from the altar, Emily and Hotch stopped to give Jack — who was now standing tall on his seat — a hug and a kiss. She passed her parents in the second row, who had been surprisingly amicable during the whole ordeal and were now clapping politely. When she saw a hint of pride in their faces, she was grateful that Aaron had convinced her to invite them.

When they made their way across the backyard and into Rossi's living room, Emily wrapped her arms around Aaron in a tight embrace. "We made it," she sighed, relaxing into his arms. His hand rubbed comforting circles against her back, as he smiled into her hair.

"We did."

The ceremony transitioned seamlessly into the evening's celebration. Toasts were given, champagne poured, food eaten, and cake cut. And before she knew it, Aaron was pulling her onto the dance floor for their first dance.

* * *

Many songs later, Rossi tapped Derek on the shoulder. "I believe it's my turn with the bride." Derek handed her over with a bow, and Emily laughed as Rossi spun her around.

"I have to say, in all my years of knowing him, I've never seen Aaron like this." Rossi gestured towards Hotch, who was dancing with Jessica across the floor. He was laughing, no trace of the worried wrinkles or furrowed eyebrows that were usually present on his face. Carefree, no burdens resting on his shoulders. Emily simply smiled, her heart full at the sight of him like this.

"Aren't you glad I talked you into this?" Rossi's eyes were sparkling, reflecting in equal measure the champagne he'd consumed and the joy of seeing his closest friends married.

It had certainly taken some effort. Emily recalled that fateful Friday night at the bar with the team.

_"No. No wedding. For the last time, we're just going to the courthouse." Emily had been fending off wedding questions all evening, and that last round of drinks had made her a bit combative._

_But JJ wasn’t going to back down without a fight. "Em, I thought I just wanted to go to the courthouse too, but I couldn't be happier that we got that night to celebrate with everyone."_

_"I'm just not a wedding person. I don't want to go through all the planning — the invitations, decorations, the dress — ugh." She shook her head and took another swig of her beer._

_JJ turned to Hotch, who had been careful to avoid the topic all evening, and said accusatorially, "Hotch. Say something."_

_He held his hands up, defending himself, "Listen, I'm just going along with whatever she wants to do."_

_JJ rolled her eyes. And then it was Rossi's turn to interject. "We can do it at my house again. I'll take care of everything. You won't have to lift a finger."_

_Emily said nothing, though his proposition didn't sound quite so terrible._

_"Come on. What's the point of that big old house if I can't even celebrate my friends getting married?"_

_Emily heaved a big sigh, as if it was physically painful for her to acquiesce to them. "Fine. We can have the wedding at your place. As long as we can do it soon."_

_JJ clapped her hands and did a little dance in her seat, just as Reid, Morgan, and Garcia walked up to the table. "What's going on?"_

_Rossi grinned, "Block out your Saturday a month from now. We're having a wedding."_

_"And next weekend, the girls are going dress shopping." JJ couldn't keep the glee out of her voice._

_Emily groaned, collapsing her head into her hands, as the rest of the team laughed at her expense. Hotch simply smiled and put a comforting arm around his fiancée._

Emily looked around her. The string lights hanging above them. The candles that surrounded them, casting a warm glow. The calla lily centerpieces on the table. Her family, dancing around her, their laughs canvassing the air. Emily smiled, content, as she hugged her friend a little tighter. "I am glad. Thank you, Dave. This was perfect."

* * *

“Do you remember when we were here for JJ’s wedding?” Emily said with a smile. She had found her way back to Aaron, and they were now swaying together on the dance floor. One hand rested on his arm and the other on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under his shirt. He held her close, their cheeks just barely touching.

His chuckle was hot against her skin. “I do. That was certainly an interesting night.”

_It was the early days. Before the team, or at least before Strauss, knew about their relationship. Hotch found her next to the bar talking to Derek, who then stepped away with Jack, mentioning something about fountains._

_“You look lovely.” His voice was low, a heated whisper._

_It had been a close call for Emily yesterday. Near-death experiences usually resulted in the two of them crashing into bed, searching for a release from the emotional upheaval. But they hadn't managed to find a moment alone since. Until now. It charged the air between them, and it took everything she had not to launch herself into his arms in front of everyone._

" _Thanks." She felt his eyes rake over her, a seductive caress to compensate for the space between them. It made her breath catch in her throat, prompting that delicious clench below her waist._

_Jack interrupted before anything else transpired between them. He ran to give Emily a hug around her legs and told her about the fountain Derek showed him. No one commented on the affection between Hotch's son and Emily — they knew how Foyet had brought them closer together._

_Emily found herself talking to Kevin and Gina in the yard as they waited for JJ to come downstairs. Hotch stood a few paces away, maintaining his distance. He sipped his drink, only half-listening to Anderson chatting away next to him. Over his glass, he watched Emily's head tilt back in a laugh, a glittering sound that traveled through the air and made him smile._

_Then they stood next to each other, watching JJ and Will at the altar. The hum, that irresistible buzz, persisted between them, reminiscent of the very first days of their relationship. Out of the corner of her eye, Emily saw Hotch take a nearly indiscernible step closer to her. His hand lightly grazed her back, and she had to bite her lip to stop the gasp from escaping her mouth. Convinced that everyone's focus was safely on the couple in the front, he slipped his hand lower, crossing the border of propriety until it settled on the small of her back, his thumb skirting against her. The contact shifted the atmosphere between them again, the simmering heat now a full-blown fire._

_Furtive glances were passed as the evening went on, and Emily was sure that he could read every salacious thought that passed her mind whenever she looked at him. She circled the edge of the dance floor, watching her friends twirl each other around, until Reid pulled her in for a song. Then Morgan, then the girls, then Rossi. After she had appropriately made her rounds with the rest of the team, Hotch stole her away from Dave for a dance. He held her against him, closer than he should have, but the group was too distracted to notice. Their cheeks were barely touching, and when he dared a glance at her, her lips turned up in a small smile. Neither of them spoke, just taking pleasure in the chance to hold each other. But it wasn't enough to satiate the burn that lingered between them. Just as their song ended, he whispered, his voice rough in her ear, “Upstairs. Guest bathroom. I’ll be there in 5.”_

_She slipped away from the crowd, not wanting to attract too much attention to herself, and made her way into the house. The wait was agonizing, and when she finally heard the bathroom door open, there was no hesitation when she pushed against him, pulling the lapels of his jacket down so she could kiss him. Hotch met her with a groan, locking the door behind him, as her hands wandered down his body._

_"Fuck," he growled against her mouth as her fingers found his belt buckle. He walked her back, swiftly lifting her up onto the countertop. She locked her legs around his waist, bringing him close enough to feel his arousal press against her. He wasted no time, his hands sneaking under her dress to rip off her underwear. Then a finger, then two, were inside her, and she was climbing fast._

_All too soon, he pulled out, leaving her bereft, until he lifted her off the counter and turned her away from him, hiking her dress up further. Then he was inside her. She braced herself against the counter, meeting his relentless pace with her own. Their eyes locked in the mirror, and the heady sight sent them both spiraling over the edge. After a minute, she turned and wrapped her arms around him, making a comment about horny teenagers that made him laugh._

_When she joined the team outside again, Hotch was already dancing with Garcia, their illicit tryst safely a memory._

"If we didn't have a very comfortable hotel room waiting for us, I would whisk you upstairs again right now," she pulled back to look at him, that familiar glint in her eyes.

"Getting impatient are we, Mrs. Hotchner?" he replied with a smirk. She was keeping her last name, but it made her smile to hear it nonetheless. He bent down to kiss her, his hand reaching to cup the back of her neck as she melted into him, ignoring the whistles and wolf calls around them.

* * *

“Congratulations, Aaron. Emily.” Strauss walked up to the couple, who were resting their feet at the table.

“Thank you, Erin,” Aaron replied graciously. “We’re glad you could join us.” Emily said nothing, her lips pressed in a tight smile. It was all the pleasantry she could muster.

_They sat stoically across from Strauss’s desk. Erin couldn’t fathom why they had both asked to meet with her that morning. The last time she had been in a room with just the two of them, Agent Prentiss had resigned from the FBI. She raised an eyebrow and gestured, prompting Hotch to speak._

_"Chief Strauss, thank you for taking the time to meet with us. I know this may seem...unconventional. But Agent Prentiss and I wanted to inform you personally that we are getting married."_

_Strauss's face froze, her exaggerated blink betraying her shock. "I'm sorry?"_

_"We are engaged," Emily repeated, intentionally drawing out the words. Hotch put a hand on her leg, hidden from Strauss's view, cautioning her tone._

_"I don't understand. How long have you two been in a...relationship?" Strauss recovered herself, crossing her arms over her chest, disapproval written over her face._

_"Just over a year." Hotch's expression was unflappable, his tone even._

_Strauss huffed, getting up from her seat to face the wall for a moment before turning back to the agents. "Agent Hotchner, I am sure you are well aware of the bureau's anti-fraternization policies—“_

_“We are, ma’am.”_

_“So you understand why this could reflect poorly on the both of you.”_

_“It’s not like the rules haven’t been broken before.” Emily couldn’t keep the disdain out of her voice, despite Hotch’s warning. When Strauss turned to face her, Emily raised an eyebrow, an implicit reference to Strauss’s own indiscretions._

_A scowl formed on the section chief’s face. “Agent Prentiss, you do realize this affects your career the most. You could never advance within the bureau as long as Agent Hotchner remains your supervisor.” She was careful to avoid any roadways into her own romantic life._

_“I do. And I’m happy where I am.”_

_Shaking her head, Strauss took her seat again, folding her hands on the desk in front of her. “Then I guess there’s nothing more to discuss. You will need to disclose your relationship formally. I‘ll send Agent Hotchner the paperwork.”_

_The two agents stood up, and Hotch thanked Strauss for her time. Before they left, she added matter-of-factly, “And congratulations on your engagement.”_

“Erin! Quit bothering the lovebirds. Come, dance with me." Rossi whisked Strauss away from the couple, dipping her once before spinning away.

“I can’t believe she was upset about us when she’s been with Rossi this whole time,” Emily said when Strauss had moved out of earshot.

Hotch chuckled at his wife’s obvious annoyance, planting a kiss in hair. “I don’t think she was really upset. She’s just a stickler for protocol.“

“If you say so,” she sighed, leaning against him, her eyes fluttering closed.

“Tired?”

“Mmm.” The day was catching up to her, and their hotel room suddenly seemed infinitely more inviting.

She felt Aaron’s arm lifting her up from her seat. “One last dance?” She opened her eyes and saw him standing in front of her, hand outstretched in an invitation. She placed her hand in his and he tugged her towards him.

They rocked gently together with the music, until he suddenly twirled her away from him. Her laugh followed her movements, and then she was in his arms again, her back against his chest. His arms circled her waist, holding her close, his cheek resting on her head.

They stayed like that until the end of the song. Emily then turned to face her husband, all her joy and love for him emanating from her smile, as she brushed her lips against his.

“I love you, Aaron Hotchner.”

“And I love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this :) I’ve loved writing the two of them. And I’ve been waiting for a chance to redo JJ’s wedding/Emily’s goodbye, so this was a fun chapter. If an idea strikes, maybe I’ll put in an epilogue?   
> In the meantime, thank you all again!


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